


Father

by mushembra



Series: And He Finally Learned What Love and Kindness Meant [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gavin is a sad boi who needs an adult, Gen, Hank is best dad, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Perkins is a fucking dick, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Humiliation, and basically is adopting Gavin, mentions of child abuse, well basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushembra/pseuds/mushembra
Summary: After many tiring days of digging through evidence, there's finally been a breakthrough in a high profile case.Hank and Gavin are the ones called out to the scene, but they were given the heads-up that the FBI, and especially one Agent Perkins, would be on scene to assistWhat should have been a routine investigation day for Gavin turns into a nightmare under Perkins intoleranceHe expected ridicule, he expected cruelty, it's all he's ever known. What he didn't expect was a kind and supportive presence in the form of his temporary partner





	Father

**Author's Note:**

> This may get two more parts. One with Connor as the victim, then one where Hank ends up in a pickle and is helped out by his two boys.  
> That's if the interest is there enough for it  
> So ya'll spoke and here is poor Gavin suffering and Hank going into dad mode for him!  
> Because fuck it, two sons! Why not?!

“Why the fuuuuck is that dickass Perkins going to be there again?”

Hank glanced at the grouching detective slouched in his passenger seat, and despite the fact the groaning was getting pretty old (he’s bitched the whole drive so far), he had to agree. This case had been a difficult one, and they had been so close to solving it. The details were finally coming together after poor Connor spent four days without sleep (yes fuck it, it was sleep, not standby mode or whatever), obsessing and obsessing and finally he had a break through. It was just a matter of returning to the slum the deviant had been hunkering down in after committing her most recent heinous act of cruelty, and it was assured they would not only find her (rather the information to her current location), but find their motive. With it they could break her down in an interrogation and get her off the streets and in prison for good.

But of fucking course the FBI, Perkins especially, was still trying to stay relevant when it came to deviants after their spectacular failure both at Jericho and the peaceful demonstration that turned violent (all because of him, the bastard). So he would be there, as well as several other agents, and shit was always tense when the police department and FBI had to work together in Detroit. There was a lot of venom there, and Hank didn’t expect today to go very well. It’s why just he and Gavin were going in the first place. He practically begged Fowler to give Connor off because one, he desperately needed sleep, and two, having the android there would make things with Agent Dickhead all the more volatile. It was no secret he held androids in dehumanizing regards, and would not cooperate if the DPD's resident android detective was there. So as much as Connor wanted to be there, he agreed to remain home, and was in a deep sleep when Hank left him in the morning.

“Oh great…guess they beat us to the punch

As Hank pulled his car up to the scene, he spotted several well-polished black sedans, out of place in such a low income area. He knew it was just going to be another reason for Perkins to act like he was better than the rest of them, how he was more dedicated or some bullshit. As a matter of fact there he was, standing in the doorway of the rundown hovel, hands clasped behind his back with some self-satisfied smirk on his face. Well the lieutenant knew just where he wanted to shove that stupid ass look on his face. He steeled himself as he parked the car, watching as Gavin shifted a little awkwardly in his seat before exiting the car. Probably just uncomfortable after the long drive. He shook the other dreaded possibility out of his head and followed the detective out of the car, making his way up to the crime scene and their overbearing foreman for the day.

“Well, well. Didn’t think the DPD’s two shining stars would ever get the motivation to get their asses over here. Do you think we have all days to work on your schedule? Our needs are far more time sensitive.”

“You didn’t have to show up so damn early you know.”

“Or the both of you could stop disgracing your badges put some go in your fucking careers.”

Hank could read his temporary partner’s body language easily, and caught a white-knuckled fist before it could do any damage.

“Gavin, ain’t worth it.”

_Oh I’d love to fucking do it, too. But that bastard doesn’t deserve to be proven right…_

That fist twitched in Hank’s hand, as if the detective were contemplating actually doing the smart thing or saying fuck it to his career in the department. But after a moment the fist lowered, a low fuck muttered under Gavin’s breath before he backed off. The lieutenant let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, clapping a hand on the man’s back in reassurance before making to move onto the crime scene, only to be stopped by Perkin’s yet again. For a man who has so little fucking precious time, he really likes to hold people up.

“One more thing. This is a secured and classified crime scene. So I’m not allowing anyone to leave once they’ve entered until the investigation is over…under any circumstances. And trust me, I’ll know if you try to leave. You’ll be reported to your superior for misconduct and leaving a crime scene unsecured. With an investigation this sensitive it could uh…ruin or end your career. Got it?”

“You son of a—”

The fucking audacity! Hank couldn’t believe this fucking prick. Or maybe he could. Nutjob. Well, now all he wanted to do was get this shit over with as fast as he could. He spared Gavin a glance, and noted with mild concern that the poor detective seemed to pale and appear a bit apprehensive, going tense for a moment before muttering, shoving passed Perkins to get into the hovel. He thought back to the discomfort he seemed to be in prior to exiting the car, and a horrifying thought dawned on Hank. He really hoped he was reading too much into the young man’s body language, but if he wasn’t this could be a huge problem.

\---------------------------------

The thing about Gavin that no one knew (well, no one except Connor and Hank who had started picking up on his habits and little ‘system’) was that when he went into an investigation, there was one thing he always had to plan for; what sort of crime scene he was going to. Namely, would there be a bathroom freely available to him. He planned his entire fluid intake for the day around it, so obsessive with his habits that took years to fine tune in order to avoid embarrassment. If he could get to a bathroom or a secluded outdoor area to relieve himself, it made things easy. He didn’t have to worry. If there was nothing available, he drank virtually nothing throughout the day, to keep his bladder empty. It was more or less full proof. There were some days that it was a close thing, the detective having to rush into the bathroom when he was finally off scene with his crotch gripped firmly in hand as the urine dribbled into his underwear. But at least he avoided a full on wetting.

That was the problem today. There was a convenience store across the street from the crime scene, so he wasn’t worried about his usual morning cup of coffee. Until Perkins had to say the one thing that could make his planning null and void. Now he was standing in this dingy ass house with a bladder aching for release, the caffeine bringing a faster, harsher sort of urgency that it’s want to do. And here he was, surrounded by FBI agents, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to keep himself composed. But he could already feel his anxiety spiking, making the need worse in a vicious cycle that would promise to be a disaster.

Gavin took a tense breath in, letting it out through clenched teeth before he proceeded with his survey of the crime scene. He knew what he was looking for; a log book that Connor insisted the deviant kept, outlining their every move. He believed the android suffered from ‘memory loss’ (or more exactly a corrupted memory drive), and so kept an account of their every action, their every move. It was just a matter of finding it. Something about follow the signs indicating where that hiding place would be. Should be easy. Or it would be easy if he wasn’t so distracted.

_Of all the fucking days, and with this prick here, too…keep it together, Gavin._

It’s all he wanted to do was keep it together until they could get out of here. He could do this. Well, he thought he could do this, until the minutes ticked by and Gavin quickly realized the intense pressure that was building was by no means going to allow him to focus. He glanced around self-consciously around the crime scene, crossing one leg over the other as he pressed the heel of his hand into his crotch, pressing his cock against his thigh. Fucking douchebag with his fucking power trip and his fucking rules. He bounced a little on the spot before glancing behind him, hoping to god no one was picking up on his need. Well, unfortunately there was someone who did, but not someone he had to be worried about. Hank in fact walked over, arms crossed over his chest as he looked the detective up and down, and honestly it made him feel pretty fucking small.

“Jesus fuck, you had coffee this morning, didn’t you?”

“I thought I’d be able to sneak off to the god damn convenience store, ok? Oh…oh fuck…”

“You…gonna be able to hold it, Gavin?”

Did he really have to say it? Gavin could feel his ears burning a bright red, teeth clenched together as he gave a firm and exaggerated shake of his head up and down.

“What choice do I have? I…will not humiliate myself…in front of that fucker Perkins…”

But he obviously wasn’t making a good case for himself. Gavin couldn’t help but roll his cock in his hand through his jeans, that bounce coming back to his legs. It was almost worse that Hank knew, because now that concerned empathy was plain as day on his face. But at least he didn’t push the whole thing.

“If you need anything…don’t fucking know what I can do…but uh, let me know, got it?”

Gavin gave a short nod, and was thankful when the lieutenant walked away, so that he could be left alone to his shame. Solve the case. All he had to do was solve the case. No, find the journal. Find—

_I’m going to wet the floor! FUCK!_

Gavin could feel hot tears of pain and shame burning in his eyes, and suddenly he was well aware that it was either break Perkins’ rule, or piss himself. And he was not about to embarrass himself for a second time in the same week. He marched stiff legged to the front door, wincing at how loud his foot falls were, but it was like that bastard was watching his every move, because here was Agent Asshole now, standing in the doorway with both amusement and thinly veiled disgust on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Look, I’ll be quick. There and back, no fucking around. I just—”

“Listen, you’re not some kid. You are a grown man, a detective! Or do I need to remind you? Now uh, if you really can’t hold your  pee-pee poor wittle Gavin, maybe you shouldn’t be a detective. This is unbecoming of your profession. If you leave, I promise you’ll be reported for everything I have in my power to report you for. Got it?”

And with that Perkins walked off, and Gavin was left blistering with his desperation. He couldn’t hold it. He couldn’t wait. It felt like there was an ocean of piss swelling in his bladder, bursting to be relieved. There was only so much he could be expected to hold, and he was well passed his limit.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck I can’t wait! Oh god please, please I can’t hold it…fuck I just want to piss. Please..._

It was the only thing on his mind anymore. There was nothing else; no other agents, no investigation, no fucking journal he was supposed to be looking for. Just his bladder, so full of boiling hot urine. And he suddenly, absolutely could not hold it anymore. His breath came in short gasps, one hand shoved deep into his crotch, the other tugging the waistband of his jeans away from the swell of his bladder. Pee, pee, he needed to pee so fucking bad. What were his options? There had to be something! In his frantic survey of the scene, he locked eyes for a moment with Hank, and the old man’s expression was very worried and very alarmed. And he could tell the lieutenant was also, apparently, considering the options. But maybe he had no more time to consider, no more time to wait. He simply could not wait a moment longer.

A burst of hot piss slipped Gavin’s hold, and he knew time was up. A string of curses flew from his mouth as he rushed to a corner of the room, facing the two conjoining walls as he fished his cock out of his pants. He held the raw and wet thing between his fingers, pinching and contorting his legs around himself as he delayed the inevitable. The waves of pressure were so intense and loud (yes, he was aware a sensation couldn’t be loud, but it felt like it), it made the poor detective whine under the strain of it. He was about to wet all over himself in the middle of a crime scene. This was worse than the other day. All he could do is shrivel to a pinpoint, urine dripping onto the floor in front of him. He'd have to tuck himself back in. He couldn't just piss full force on the floor. Why did this have to be happening again?

_Come on, sonny booooy…you better hold it._

_D-Dad! I can’t! Dad please I n-need to go potty!_

_Oh you’ll get to go when I damn well let you! Better not piss on my floor. You couldn't sit for a fucking week the last time...might need to make the punishment worse. How about a good limp?_

Gavin shook his head, the tears streaming out of control down his face now. Couldn't that bastard see he just couldn't hold it? He tried so hard, held it so long, but he just couldn't.

“Dad, p-please…”

\--------------------- 

All Hank could do was watch poor Gavin spiral out of control, literally. Turns out his deduction was horrifyingly correct; poor bastard had to piss since they got here. He had it all planned out to accommodate his health issue, but fucking Perkins. Of course the fucknut had to be a cruel and unsympathetic monster. He really hoped maybe, just maybe the detective’s need wouldn’t become too dire over the course of their stay on scene, but as the minutes went by, it was obviously becoming worse by leaps and bounds, and pretty damn fast. This was looking to become a really bad situation. He was slowly realizing Gavin wasn't going to be able to hold it until they were finished.

Hank did his best to sift through the scene and the evidence in the meantime, all while keeping tabs on his partner. If he could sort this out fast enough, they could get out of here and Gavin could get some relief. He just hoped the poor man could hang on.

_Hang in there, just—_

His thoughts were halted by a small commotion, and Hank watched with horror as the detective scurried to a corner, fumbling with his pants, and he knew that they were out of time. Gavin was about to piss, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

“Fuck…”

Hank walked over cautiously, remembering the last time his partner was in this same sort of situation. Gavin had become pretty volatile towards him, and he had pieced together that if the detective fell far enough into his PTSD induced regressions, the old man reminded him too much of a father-figure, and thus his father, the man who caused him such pain and suffering. He didn’t want to step over too quickly in the event that such a regression was already taking a hold of the man’s mind. Thankfully when he was close enough to touch Gavin’s shoulder, he seemed mostly coherent, if frayed at the edges due to his desperation. Hank couldn’t help but glance down, noting with some discomfort that the detective had his dick gripped quite painfully in his hands, urine dribbling onto the floor despite the bearing down, and he winced in sympathy.

“Hank…I can’t…hold it…”

“Sh, sh, ok, kid. Give me… _oooone_ —”

“Oh please, I can’t wait!”

Hank was startled by the sudden wailing. Wrong thing to say. Gavin took it as denying him permission. It was the thing his father did over and over in his life. So that was the solution. Permission. Allowing him permission.

“Alright, tell you what. You’re gonna get to piss. Ummm…fuuuuck…”

What could Gavin piss in? He had to find something, anything, and fast before he turns his statement into a lie and breach of the trust he was trying to foster right now. He had a feeling the poor kid wouldn’t allow himself to relax enough for relief if he was urged to just flood the floor, so Hank had to find something. Look, look—

_Aha!_

Sitting nearby was a metal waste basket (thankfully it wasn’t mesh wire like they usually were), and there was the answer to their dilemma. Hank scooped up the trash can and set it down in the corner in front of Gavin, who didn’t react at first. But his brain finally caught up and he looked at Hank with anger and frustration in his eyes.

“Alright, there. Use this.”

“I f-fucking…can’t do that! I…”

Behind that anger and frustration, there was a question burning in the man’s eyes, a question that was so heavy that it broke Hank’s heart.

_Please? I have to piss, oh can I please? Do I have permission?_

The fact that Gavin was programmed all of his life to be expected to wait indefinitely for permission to relieve himself throughout the day was deplorable. No human-being should be expected to ignore a human need, something so primal and basic. It was at that moment that Hank found himself wanting to correct that suffering in the young man’s life, help heal those wounds, give him someone he could depend on. Even after Cole had passed, his natural instincts as a father never faded, and he couldn’t help but want to nurture this broken man. It was fucking wild how he went from hating his fucking guts to feeling such a familial intimacy with him.

Hank crowded around the detective in the corner, blocking everyone else’s view while placing a comforting hand on his back.

“Yes, son. You can go. It’s ok. You don’t have to hold it anymore.”

Hank could see how Gavin’s thoughts warred in his head, face conflicted, fists clenching and unclenching. But unfortunately it was obvious his body had decided for him. The lieutenant could feel the young man’s body tremble violently before his resolve broke. And suddenly the sound of him pissing thunderously into the metal waste basket filled the air, which grabbed the attention of a certain special prick. Yeah, he really should have seen that shit coming.

“What the fuck does he think he's doing?! Reign in your detective! He’s disturbing—”

“You wanna know something?”

Hank turned sideways so he could level his eyes at Perkins’, but kept himself angled in a way to give Gavin a small amount of privacy, hand rubbing up and down the young man’s back.

“You are a fucking monster. An unfeeling monster who has no empathy for anyone fucking else. He’s only human. I’m pretty sure you are too, but uh…starting to doubt that. Hell, I know androids with more feeling in their fucking pinky than you have in your entire body! So tell you what; my boy here is going to sort himself out, then we’ll finish this case up and get out of your hair. So fuck off.”

Well that shut the bastard up. Perkins had murder in his eyes, but he walked regardless, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. Just as Hank thought; his threats had no real bite. Sure, Gavin might be pissing in a trash can, but they weren’t in public, so this wasn’t a case of indecent exposure or public urination. The prick didn’t have a leg to stand on. There was literally nothing he could do. The lieutenant turned his attention back to Gavin, who was letting out relieved pants as he emptied his overfilled bladder. He couldn't help rubbing his hand up and down the young man's back, hoping a soothing presence will keep him grounded so that he didn't slip into a regression mid-urination.

“There you go, let it all out. It’s ok, kid. Nothing to be ashamed of. You’re only human…”

Hank softened at the little whine that escaped the other’s mouth. He knew Gavin didn’t believe him, not when he suffered so many year of abuse, but the lieutenant was going to change that. It didn’t matter how long the healing process took. This man…this kid deserved to finally have a father in his life, someone he can lean on, trust, to know he felt loved and wanted. All children deserved that, and it was disgusting Gavin never knew that. It explained his behavior; the forced cock-sureness, the way he used anger, sarcasm, and bitterness to keep people away. The horrendous way he behaved was a cry for help, and it took too long for him to realize it.

“Hank…I’m s-so—”

“Don’t even finished that sentence. I fucking said it’s ok kid, ok? You’re fine. Just get it out and we’ll wrap shit up here.”

It took quite some time for the sound of urine filling the bottom of the waste basket to die down. But when it finally did, Hank was shoved aside as the detective made a beeline out of the corner. Anyone else would be offended, but he knew he just wanted out of this humiliating situation. Honestly, Hank had a feeling they both wanted to go home at this point, but Gavin must want it more than anyone. Maybe that's why after just five minutes of surveying the walls, he hit pay dirt. He recalled how Connor told them this android used to work with a family with a blind child, and though she couldn't remember her time before deviancy well, the intriguing thing was she always wrote ra9 in a form of braille. And wouldn't you know it, there was braille all along the walls, following in a pattern to a loose board in the floor. And what was underneath that board?

"Bingo! There you have it you fucking genius you!"

"Yeah, yeah, let's inform Perkins and get the hell out of here."

Hank was absolutely thrilled with the look on Perkins face, realizing they hadn't been the ones to solve this little mystery despite how 'good' the FBI was and how they were much more superior to the DPD. Well he could shove that up his ass. The crime scene was now cleared for cleaning, and the duo were quick to make their escape. the lieutenant wanted nothing more to do with the FBI, Perkins, none of that shit every again in his life. As they made the drive home, he couldn't help but spare Gavin a few glances, noting how uncomfortable he was with his embarrassment and likely wet boxers. It was make or break this thing he was trying to build between them, but he had no idea how he would reactive to the invitation. But as they say, nothing ventured.

"So uh...wanna drop by my place for a while? Bet Connor would like to see you. And uh...I think both of us are a little too sober at the day we had."

Hank heard a snort come from the man sitting beside him, and he almost let the anger that reared it's head so naturally to snap out at Gavin for being ungrateful. That is until he glanced over again and saw the surprise on the man's face, as if he couldn't comprehend anyone wanting him around. Well, he would have to fix that.

"If...you don't mind I mean...fucking sure, I guess."

Hank laughed at his ineloquence, which earned him a quick punch in the arm and a hesitant laugh in return. It would be a very long road indeed, but if this is the sort of Gavin that was hiding beneath the fetid shells, then reaching in and pulling him out would be worth just about anything in the world.


End file.
